


Control

by AurigaVenatici (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, M/M, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Situational Humiliation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AurigaVenatici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrathion's champion just won't shut UP, and he needs to leave before his bodily functions catch up with him. Unfortunately, just when he thinks he's gotten away, Anduin Wrynn turns up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Wrathion is a trans man; Anduin is a cis man.

Wrathion was growing rather frustrated indeed with this particular champion.

Usually, he didn’t mind their rambling, even if it went on for hours. In fact, he usually  _revelled_  in it – he was an inherently curious being, devouring stories that others told to turn into his own tales in time. Usually when the original hero was dead enough on whichever mission they’d met their match in that Wrathion could do so without fear of actually being  _accused_  of plagiarism.

But this time, the paladin had been rambling on for  _hours_ , and Wrathion  _really_  needed to  _go_.

Oh, he’d tried several times to leave politely, to stand up and sneak off, to firmly tell the champion that he had other  _pressing_  matters to attend to – he’d even slipped in a few more flippant excuses (which his Blacktalons had raised their eyebrows at), claiming that, for example, Anduin Wrynn was on fire or that his room had been kidnapped. But the man in front of him had made it clear two hours ago that he wasn’t listening to a word Wrathion was saying – and clear again an hour and a half ago, an hour ago, half an hour ago, and just now as well.

So Wrathion squirmed in his seat as the dwarf started with another ‘Oh, that reminds me of the time…” He couldn’t  _believe_  this. He’d even  _considered_ going before the paladin had arrived, but had neglected the opportunity, thinking that his next guest would be a quick turnaround before he’d seen exactly who it  _was_. He should have known; the forces that be in Azeroth always seemed to have it in for him.

He could think of nothing more  _embarrassing_  than actually  _showing_  this paladin how desperate he was, so he kept his shuffling and leg-jiggling to a minimum for as long as he could. He could feel the pressure building the longer the paladin talked, and the fact that this particular story was about where he was during the Shattering didn’t help, especially given it was  _on Stonewrought Dam_.

The paladin described the way the waters had burst forth in a great gush and surged forwards over the lands below, soaking everything in its path – and Wrathion felt his resistances waning, suddenly afraid that he couldn’t stand without leaking. But, he supposed, leave it any longer and he might not be able to  _sit_ , either; and besides, his tabard would do a neat job of hiding any… loss of control he  _did_  experience.

Rather than make an excuse, he stood up abruptly and waved a hand to one of his Blacktalons to take his place listening. The paladin didn’t skip a beat, apparently used to being abandoned like this or at least understanding that the prince really  _did_  have to leave this time. He could practically feel the fluid inside him shifting as he moved, which made it all the more difficult to hold on – too difficult to climb the stairs, so instead he headed out the back of the tavern to find a suitably shielded place to relieve himself with dignity.

His hopes of doing so shattered when he heard two words in that  _infuriatingly_ wonderful voice that could belong to no other than Anduin Wrynn: “Wrathion, wait!”

He cringed and tried not to cross his legs too obviously as the three-tap footsteps approached him. Turning, he put on a pleasant smile and clasped his hands in front of himself. “Why, Anduin, what is it? If it could wait, I’d be most appreciative. I’m rather indisposed.”

“If you’re about to sneak off for one of your top secret assassinations, Wrathion, then I’d rather keep you here,” the Stormwind prince quipped, but his eyes scanned Wrathion’s posture and the dragon’s blush deepened so much it was visible when he realised that Anduin knew  _exactly_  what he wanted to rush off for.

“In fact,” Anduin said, approaching Wrathion and backing him against a wall, “perhaps I’d better keep you here for the greater good.”  
“Anduin,” chided Wrathion has he tried to squirm out of Anduin’s arms, “you  _know_  I act in Azeroth’s best interests at  _all_  times.”  
But Anduin pressed a kiss to Wrathion’s lips, wedging one knee between the dragon’s legs and abandoning his cane to press both of his shoulders to the wall. “I don’t  _trust_  you,” he repeated – quoting himself from much earlier, but with a distinct difference in tone. This time, it was an excuse. “You’re staying  _right_  here.”

Wrathion let his breathless lips fall open only to have them pressed into another kiss. He was left absolutely hopeless with lust whenever Anduin got like this, especially in  _public_ , though a part of him still wished he hadn’t chosen  _now_. That said, he had to admit – at least part of the thrill that rose in his chest and left his clit hard as obsidian was the fact that if Anduin Wrynn didn’t let him go  _right now_ , he was going to—

He felt a few drops of urine escape into his pants, further soaking his already-wet underwear. He went to bend forwards, to cringe and cross his legs to stop further leaking, but found himself prevented from doing so by a grinning Anduin. He swore in Draconic as he felt more warm urine trickle down his leg – then as Anduin kissed his ear, gave up entirely with a quiet whimper.

A deluge of piss flooded his trousers, soaking them through and running down onto the leg of Anduin’s which was wedged up against Wrathion’s crotch. Wrathion found himself rolling his hips down against the growing warmth, cheeks burning and digging his claws into Anduin’s shoulders until he consciously made himself stop.

“I don’t need to leave any more,” he quietly admitted. That made Anduin  _grin_. Oh,  _when_  had the older Prince gotten so  _deviant_? Wrathion ever so hoped he’d had a part to play in that, but as of now he was far too—wait, where was Anduin’s hand going?

The White Pawn’s hand weaselled its way into Wrathion’s saturated trousers and quickly moved to grasp his long clit between forefinger and thumb. Wrathion had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out as Anduin jerked him off, and he reached his climax in a matter of seconds, his forehead falling forwards against Anduin’s shoulder.  _Damn_.

He panted hard as Anduin softened his actions a little, gently kissing his cheek as he withdrew his hand. “Are you alright?” he muttered, and Wrathion nodded – then cursed himself for playing so well into Anduin’s hands. He was always so  _nice_ , and it was a trait that, thus far, Wrathion had been doing his best to discourage. He squirmed against Anduin again out of habit - oh, he’d made quite a mess, hadn’t he…

Anduin reached for his cane again and backed up, then grinned at Wrathion. “I don’t suppose you could help  _me_  with a similar predicament,” he asked, tilting his head slightly.  
Wrathion smirked, bringing back some of his former confidence. “I suppose I might  _deign_  to do so, for my  _dear_  Prince.”

 Anduin gently directed the younger Prince to his knees – and what a sight he was. He glanced around to check nobody was coming before taking out his half-hard cock – Wrathion was all too eager to nest his head under Anduin’s tabard and take him into his mouth.

It always took Anduin a few moments to let go when he was like this, but with a sigh he let his torrent into Wrathion’s mouth. The dragon swallowed dutifully for the first few moments  - then, when it got too much, let the blond’s cock out of his mouth so the downpour spilled down his cheek and shoulder. The dragon always loved being marked by Anduin, and this was no exception; feeling the warmth soak through his clothes gave him satisfaction like no other.

Once the flow had slowed enough to allow it, Wrathion took Anduin back into his mouth and, grasping his length with his hand, began sucking him off. He felt Anduin thread his fingers through his hair, then tug sharply as Wrathion began to build up speed – on cue, Wrathion gave a lewd moan, hating and loving in equal measure how easily Anduin could prompt him like that.

The closer Anduin got, the more constant the pulling on Wrathion’s hair was, but he also brought his other hand to caress lovingly at the Black Prince’s cheek. When he finally gritted his teeth and went ever so quiet, balls contracting in Wrathion’s gentle grasp, his thumb continued to stroke at his cheekbone as he came deep into the dragon’s hot, tight throat.

The irritating champion was forgotten as Wrathion purred and  _purred_  under Anduin’s attentions – he was always surprised at how…  _safe_  he felt while being so utterly debased by his fellow Prince. He caught Anduin as the blond’s leg finally gave way – he cursed softly in pain, but Wrathion kissed his cheek, pressing the clean side of his face against his lover and continuing to purr loudly enough that Anduin was quite afraid he might get deafened.

“You should take a bath and we should go upstairs,” Anduin eventually said. “I need to lie down, anyway.”  
“And whose fault is the bath part?” smirked Wrathion, kissing Anduin’s ear.  
“Yours,” the other Prince grinned back. “Don’t pretend you forgot it was you who started this.”  
“It was  _not_ ,” Wrathion protested. “I just—”  
“…held for hours with  _no_  intention of doing  _anything_  even a little kinky?” finished Anduin incredulously.  
“…well, maybe a  _little_ ,” the dragon pouted.

He stood and helped Anduin up as best he could without furthering the soiling of Anduin’s clothes. Although Wrathion could shift to whelp form to disguise his less-than-Princely state, Anduin could hardly do the same. At least the mess he  _had_  made could be passed off as a spilt drink for the time it would take for Anduin to find a change of clothes.

“Meet you upstairs in half an hour?” Anduin suggested.  
Wrathion nodded. “Make it twenty minutes, my Prince. I only take a long time to bathe when I don’t have anything else  _pressing_  to attend to.”  
“And I’m pressing, now?”  
“Very.”

Wrathion planted one last kiss on Anduin’s lips, then pulled away and shifted to whelp form to go and get himself cleaned up.


End file.
